Who Wants to Marry a Crawley Sister?
by The Yankee Countess
Summary: A year after their infamous dinner dates, the Crawley sisters are marrying their beaus in a unique and lavish triple wedding ceremony! But when three very different, and very passionate sisters share a day like this, drama is bound to happen! Modern AU, for STEAMM Day 2014; the sequel to "Who Wants to Date a Crawley Sister?"
1. Prologue: The Calm Before the Storm

_HERE IT IS! My contribution to STEAMM Day 2014, and the sequel to my STEAMM story from last year (Who Wants to Date a Crawley Sister?) More to come on the actual day itself, but I wanted to post the prologue a bit early (besides, technically it's Sept. 14 already in some parts of the world!)_

_This story takes place a year after the end of the last one. More will be revealed through flashbacks in the upcoming chapters, but basically, all three Crawley sisters are engaged to the men they met (or reunited with) from their infamous "date night". Now it's the weekend for the actual wedding! But with the media wanting to catch a glimpse of this unique "triple wedding ceremony", not to mention a few other factors from uninvited guests to the invasion of countless relatives and so much more, the question soon becomes..._are_ the grooms **mad** enough to take on the Crawley sisters?_

_THANK YOU for all the support with my last STEAMM story! I'm glad so many people enjoyed it, from my fellow S/T shippers, to the E/A and M/M folks, and DA lovers in general. I hope you enjoy this one too, I would love to hear your thoughts! Again, thank you for reading!_

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><p><em><strong><span>Who Wants to Marry a Crawley Sister<span>?**_  
><em>by The Yankee Countess<em>

_Proglogue  
><strong>"The Calm Before the Storm"<strong>_

_WEDDING OF THE CENTURY!_

_Move over Will & Kate, the Crawley sisters are here to steal your thunder!_

_Not one, not two, but all three of Lord Grantham's beautiful daughters are getting married in a dazzling, one-of-a-kind TRIPLE WEDDING CERMONY, taking place THIS WEEKEND at the Earl's lavish, famed estate, Downton Abbey in Yorkshire._

_You may recall how the previous year, the lovely Ladies Mary, Edith, and Sybil Crawley, put themselves on the auction block, so to speak, for the Grantham Foundation's annual charity auction, where three lucky gentlemen could win the chance of having the pleasure of their company for an evening out on the town. Who knew that something as simple as winning a dinner date would eventually lead to an engagement?_

_The lucky bachelors are as different as can be!_

_Mr. Matthew Crawley of Manchester, a lawyer who has recently been named Lady Mary's partner for the Grantham Foundation. (Nepotism perhaps? Or is their similar surname a matter of coincidence?)_

_Sir Anthony Strallan of Locksley Park in Yorkshire, the Minister of Agriculture (is Lady Edith, soon to be the next Lady Strallan, a trophy wife?)_

_Mr. Tom Branson of Dublin, a journalist for _The Standard _(not the sort of newsmagazine a Tory would catch himself reading, let alone agreeing to become part of the family)_

_Little is known about the upcoming ceremony; invitations have been limited, though that won't stop the mass of royal and aristo enthusiasts from descending on the tiny village of Downton with hopes of catching a glimpse of one of the famous Crawley sisters, if not all three, in their wedding regalia. Rumor has it, however, that at least two of the brides are harkening back to the 1920's in the style choices of their gowns._

_Bookie offices from London to Cardiff have reported an increase in bets pertaining specifically to the impending nuptials, ranging from the cynical _(how long it will last) _to the fashionable _(which sister's gown will outshine the others) _to the downright bizarre _(will some former suitor interrupt the service?)

_While sadly, unlike the Royal Wedding, the triple wedding of the Crawley sisters will not be on any screen, though insiders—including our own "moles"—will be present and infiltrating everything, from the ceremony to the reception, tweeting everything live and direct to our website, so be sure to tune in, because you will not want to miss a single moment!_

Robert Crawley sighed as he lowered the newspaper. "This is going to be a media circus, isn't it?"

"Well, what did you expect?" his mother remarked from the chair which sat opposite his own. "The second it was announced that it would be a 'triple wedding'…" she clicked her tongue in obvious disapproval. "You really should have allowed me to oversee this whole thing, rather than let Cora run amuck—"

"Mama, please," Robert muttered, before lowering himself back to his chair and rubbing his temples as his headache began to increase.

Violet Crawley pursed her lips, but chose to remain quiet on the subject, at least for the moment. "What time are they all arriving?" she asked, changing the subject slightly.

Robert groaned. "Which ones?" he asked. "The girls and their soon-to-be spouses, or half of the Irish population?"

"How many of his relatives are coming?"

"God knows…at least twenty?" Robert sighed, trying to remember the number of Bransons his daughter told him to expect.

Violet smoothed a wrinkle on her pants suit. "Speaking of which, I think I'm going to invite Lady Margot to come and stay with me at the Dower House."

Robert frowned. "Why? She's Sir Anthony's sister, she has a perfectly good place to stay at Locksley—"

"Yes, but she and I haven't had a chance to properly talk since all this began, and I'd like to know her thoughts—"

"Mama…" there was a slight warning in his tone. "While I understand your…misgivings—"

"The man _is_ a quarter of a century older than her, Robert, not to mention he holds a prominent office in Parliament, which just turns Edith into a cliché—"

"The business is done," Robert interrupted, finality in his tone now. "And…Edith is right; if I'm not going to forbid Sybil from marrying a journalist whose newspaper goes against everything I stand for, well…how can I forbid her from marrying Sir Anthony Strallan?"

Violet cocked an eyebrow at him. "You're too soft, Robert; you get that from your father—"

"Oh please," he fixed her with a look of his own. "Don't think I'm not aware of the 'meddling' you pulled to bring Mary and Matthew back together." His eyes widened then as if realization dawned on him. "Is _that_ what this is about?"

Violet frowned. "What?"

"Are you hoping that Lady Margot will come and be your guest so you don't have to deal with Isobel?"

"Oh don't be ridiculous," Violet muttered, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. "Isobel and I get along just fine—"

Robert snorted.

Violet glared at him. "Lord knows I'd much rather spend an entire afternoon and evening in her company than that odious American woman—"

"Cora's mother?" Robert did find himself grimacing slightly at the thought of his mother-in-law. He would never go so far as to call her "odious", or to even think that about her, but she was a bit…much. "Well, just try to get along for the girls' sake this weekend. And besides, she'll be staying here at Downton, so you won't have to worry about crossing paths with her, except at meals and the wedding, of course."

Violet just rolled her eyes.

A knock on the study door drew the attention of both the Earl and Dowager Countess, who were greeted by Downton's butler. "Forgive the interruption, milord, but I just wanted to inform you on behalf of Mrs. Hughes that everything is ready and prepared for when the guests start arriving tomorrow."

"Thank you, Carson," Robert replied, to which the butler gave a polite and obedient bow of the head, before turning and leaving and shutting the door behind him.

Violet turned back to him and looked at her son closely. "Well…? Are you ready?"

Robert sighed, glancing one last time at the tabloid on his desk, before turning back to his mother. "Is any father, on the weekend of his daughter's wedding? And not just one daughter, but all three?"

"I wouldn't know since I'm not a father," Violet simply remarked.

At that, Robert did chuckle. "I think the best people to direct that question to, is the girls; are _they_ ready?"

"Oh they are, I have no doubt," Violet answered, rising to her feet. "It's _those grooms_ I'm concerned about."

Robert frowned. "Do you suspect cold feet?"

Violet was thoughtful for a moment. "Not 'cold', exactly, but anxious? Yes, and how could they not be?" She shared a knowing smile with her son. "After all…they're marrying into this family."

_To be continued..._


	2. The Rehearsal Dinner

_THANK YOU SO MUCH! Wow, I am floored by the response to the prologue! I'm glad people are excited! This next chapter is a bit of a mystery, as well as a little bit angsty ;o) but stick with me, it will all turn out ok in the end (we just have to travel over a few bumps to make it interesting!) Originally I wanted to keep this story as a simple 3-chapter arc, but I can see that this is going to become much longer, so I'm even going to try to say how many chapters-we'll see where it goes!_

_Here is my installment for STEAMM day 2014! BUT *maybe*, if I have the chance, I can write more later and update again quickly? We'll see! BUT THANK YOU FOR READING AND FOLLOWING, and please share with me your thoughts!_

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><p><em><span>Chapter One<span>__**  
><strong>__**"The Rehearsal Dinner"**_

The dining room at Downton Abbey had never been this full. Even back during the Great War, when the Earl of Grantham had entertained the famous General Strutt, the place hadn't been half as packed. Of course, this was a rehearsal dinner, on the night before the present Earl of Grantham's three lovely daughters were to be married.

Robert Crawley rose to his feet, and began tapping his wine glass to get the attention of everyone in the room (which was by no means, an easy task). "Excuse me; can I have your attention please? _Please?"_ he kept repeating, tapping the wine glass with a little more vigor than was perhaps needed, but when there were several children in the room, all of whom were quite rowdy, it felt necessary.

The parents of those children finally managed to get them to hush, while the Dowager Countess, and a few others, didn't bother holding back their looks of displeasure at this rather "unusual" arrangement where children were permitted to share the same table with all of the adults, but as Violet Crawley had to remind herself…things were just done differently in Ireland.

A silence of sorts had settled over the room, and Robert knew it was now or never to take advantage of the peace while he could. "I just want to thank you all for coming, and for joining Cora and myself as we celebrate the marriages of our daughters, Mary, Edith, and Sybil, to Matthew, Sir Anthony, and Tom."

"Here, here!" replied several guests, lifting their glasses and grinning at the brides and grooms.

Robert smiled down at his wife, who grinned and took his hand, squeezing it, before turning and looking at their daughters, Mary and Edith on Cora's right, Sybil sitting across from her. All three girls smiled and blushed, Edith beaming as she looked across the table at her fiancé, who smiled lovingly back at her…but not for the first time that evening, did Cora Crawley notice the man look…uneasy. _Pre-wedding jitters_, she simply told herself. Robert suffered the same thing, when they got married.

She turned her head to her eldest daughter, who was smiling politely at their father, ever the picture of English propriety, though it was not missed on Cora that Mary had spent more time during their meal with her eyes on her wine glass, and more conversation with various people around the table, as opposed to her own fiancé, who sat directly across from her.

And then there was Sybil, who had insisted on sitting next to Tom during the dinner, though it was not "proper" as far as table etiquette went, but then when did Sybil ever pay attention to such things? It was her idea (and insistence) that Tom's nieces and nephews be allowed to share this meal with all of them, rather than be banished to Downton's old nursery, which hadn't seen any life in it for years. Both Tom and Sybil were smiling and were practically joined at the hip, or so it seemed from where Cora sat, though it wasn't missed on her that even they seemed restless.

"It's hard to believe that this day has come…" Robert continued in his speech. "Why, I remember when all of them were still in nappies—"

"Oh, Papa…" his daughters all moaned at the same time, though despite their blushes, they did smile at their father, while his own mother frowned.

"Alright, I won't embarrass you with that story," he chuckled, smiling at his daughters. "But I do remember as if it were yesterday, when I came upon Mary, sitting at my desk in my study, pouring over the long, lustrous history of the Crawleys at Downton Abbey—and I should mention that she wasn't even ten at the time."

A chuckle went up from around the table. Cora smiled and squeezed her eldest daughter's hand and glanced across the table at Matthew, who was also smiling back, his eyes soft and tender as he gazed at his fiancée, before he lifted a hand to his somewhat grizzled face. Mary, however, kept her eyes down.

"Yes, even then, Mary was clearly determined to 'manage' things for the family…which no doubt explains why she does such an impeccable job for The Grantham Foundation…"

This earned another murmuring of agreement.

"…And yes, it does seem like only yesterday when I happened upon finding Edith in the ballroom—only six or seven, if memory serves—swirling and twirling around with an invisible partner, pausing every so often to curtsey and murmur 'I'd be delighted!'"

A collective sound of "awww's!" went up around the table, and Edith blushed and hid her face behind her hands, chastising her father for telling that story, while giggling and looking across at Sir Anthony, who did look back at her with pure wonder, though also…what seemed to Cora to be a little sadness.

"I couldn't help myself, I had to interrupt and asked if I could 'cut in' with her invisible partner, to which she actually said, 'no Papa, this is my wedding dance'!"

The room erupted with laughter and Edith turned an even brighter shade of pink.

"…And then there's Sybil…" Robert sighed, and all of the Bransons who were in the room leaned forward and a rumble of "ooooohhhhh's!" could be heard as they waited to hear whatever embarrassing childhood story the Earl was going to share.

"Yes, I suppose it was 'destiny' if you will that Sybil became a doctor. She was always bandaging scrapes and dressing cuts should someone fall and bruise themselves; knew where Mrs. Patmore kept the first-aid kit in the kitchen. And then I remember finding her the garage one day…"

A gasp went up from Sybil, and her face paled and her eyes widened. "Oh Papa, don't!"

"…and the Bellasis boy was visiting and had cut his hand on something, and Sybil in her way had bandaged him up, but when he was still mumbling about how much it hurt and if she had something to dull the pain, dear Sybil's solution to this was to lower her head and KISS the wound!"

"I WAS EIGHT!" Sybil gasped, looking absolutely mortified that her father had told this story. Everybody else, including Tom, was having a good laugh, while Sybil groaned and tried to hide her face in his shoulder.

"Oh, but wait! Wait…the best part, the best part," Robert gasped between his own chuckles, and was looking directly at Sybil's fiancé. "Is that the boy's name…was _Tom_ as well!"

Now all of the Bransons were howling with laughter, finding this bit of information quite amusing. Tom chuckled and wrapped his arm around his fiancée's shoulders, his other hand moving to cup her cheek and draw her face away. "Suppose it was destiny in more ways than one, eh love?"

Sybil swatted him, but smiled as he tilted her face before brushing his lips against hers, earning a round of applause from the Irish half of the table.

Robert smiled and turned his attention to the gentlemen gathered. "I never thought, when my mother proposed the idea of having the girls 'auction themselves' off for a dinner date, that it would lead to altogether different kind of proposal…or _proposals_, I should say," he chuckled. "And I certainly wasn't the easiest man to get passed," he sighed, somewhat sheepishly. "Tom," he turned to the Irishman. "While I highly doubt we shall eye to eye on…possibly anything…" this did earn a light chuckle from around the table. "…You have proven to me, on multiple occasions, that you are far more of a gentleman than most 'gentlemen' I am acquainted with."

Tom blushed and bowed his head slightly, while Sybil smiled and squeezed his arm.

Robert turned to Anthony, whose eyes widened and whose face immediately began to redden even before anything was said.

"Anthony…when I caught Edith dancing in the ballroom all those years ago, I had never imagined that the 'invisible husband' to whom she was dancing would one day turn out to be neighbor."

Edith blushed, but smiled brightly as she lovingly gazed across the table at the man she was going to be marrying in less than day.

"…And I certainly never imagined that my future son-in-law was going to be so similar in age to myself." This earned a rumble of laughter from around the table, especially from the younger guests. "Promise me, Anthony, that you'll simply call me 'Robert', and not 'Papa'?"

The words were said in jest, and were taken as such by a great many people, though it was not missed by Cora that Sir Anthony, while sheepishly smiling, did look embarrassed by joke.

"Papa, don't be mean," Edith chastised, though it was done in good humor.

Robert chuckled and then finally turned to Matthew, who gave a rather dramatic sigh for humor's sake, before holding his hands out and waiting for the roasting.

"Well, Matthew, I think your appearance at last year's auction was the only thing that could have shocked me more than Edith winning a date with the Minister of Agriculture."

A soft chuckle went up around the room.

"I must confess, when things ended between you and Mary all those years ago, I feared we had seen the last of you…" he sighed. Matthew glanced across the table at Mary, whose eyes were fixed on her wine glass again.

"…But now here you are, _finally_ where you should be, engaged to my daughter and back once more in our lives, which does mean I'm afraid, that of all the men here, you're the one with the biggest shot gun at his back."

A laugh rang out around the table then, and Matthew looked down, red-faced, but smiling.

Robert grinned widely and lifted his glass high, to which everyone did likewise (even the children gathered at the far end of the dining room). "To Mary and Matthew, Edith and Anthony, Sybil and Tom—you're brave men, taking on the Crawley sisters for your wives—"

All three of his daughters, as well as Cora, groaned his name, though it was quickly followed by giggling.

"—I repeat, _brave men_…but also very fortunate, if I do say so myself," Robert's eyes grew soft and tender as he looked at his girls. "Yes, very fortunate indeed," he whispered, feeling himself becoming rather emotional. Cora shared that feeling, and squeezed his hand in understanding.

Robert swallowed and took a deep breath. "I believe I speak for everyone here, when I say…I wish you every joy and blessing, for tomorrow, and all the days beyond."

The voices around the table murmured in agreement, before holding their glasses high and happily declaring, "cheers!" at last, before drinking the Earl's toast at last.

"Well done," Cora murmured, smiling proudly at her husband, before giving his hand a gentle tug and urging him to sit back down. Both Sybil and Edith had risen from their chairs and come around to give their father a proper hug, while Mary remained where she was, but smiled fondly back at him.

"I think I would like to say something…" an American voice declared, preparing to rise from her chair, but Violet Crawley was quick to answer, before Cora's mother (and her arch nemesis) had a chance.

"Good heavens, is that the time?" she gasped, pointing to a clock that stood in the far corner. "The grooms should have left ages ago! Come, come, best send them on their way!"

"Oh Granny, surely you don't believe in that superstitious nonsense?" Sybil questioned, a deep frown on her face.

Violet fixed her youngest granddaughter with a hard look. "It is not a matter of 'superstition' but one of practicality. We have a long day tomorrow and all of you should get your rest!" She turned her eyes to her other granddaughters, as if daring them to challenge her on this. "No bride wants to look tired on her wedding day; people seeing her so will assume she's anxious or has been up to no good."

Edith blushed but smiled across the table at Sir Anthony. "Well, I don't think I'll be able to sleep a wink," she answered honestly, a soft giggle in her voice.

Sybil's grin was anything but innocent, as she murmured, just loud enough for her grandmother and sisters to hear, "tonight or tomorrow…"

Tom practically choked on the wine he was finishing, and Matthew had to bite his fist to keep himself from bursting out laughing. Sir Anthony looked as if he could put an entire field of strawberries to shame with how red his face had become.

Mary tried to look sternly at her sister, though her own eyes were dancing with amusement at Sybil's words, while Edith couldn't hold back her gasp, though she too was grinning from ear to ear, while the Dowager Countess simply frowned. "Sybil, vulgarity is no substitute for wit."

Sybil simply beamed proudly. "You started it."

Her American grandmother was beaming too. "That's my girl."

"Right!" Cora rose to her feet, recognizing the need to diffuse the possible ticking time bomb. "Girls, your grandmother is right, you should bid Anthony, Matthew, and Tom goodnight, before heading up to bed yourselves."

A sigh of "yes, Mama," was murmured by the three Crawley sisters, who rose, along with their fiancés, and all three couples turned to everyone else in the room and offered their goodnights to the party. A loud chorus of "goodnight!" in various Irish accents echoed the couples, as well as softer, and slightly more reserved responses from the English guests, especially those of the upper crust variety.

Cora and Robert continued to hold hands as they watched their daughters exit, their grooms following close behind. "It was a lovely dinner, Robert," Cora whispered to her husband as they waved goodnight the parting couples. "And that was a very fine toast you gave."

Robert smiled and kissed Cora's hand. "Tomorrow's the big day," he sighed, feeling a little melancholy at the prospect. Still, he put on a smile and turned to his wife…whose brow, he noticed, seemed to be set in a frown. "Cora? Something wrong?"

His wife's eyes widened, as if shaken from her thoughts. "What? Oh! No, no, just…" she glanced at the door where the couples had exited. "…Nothing, I'm sure everything is fine," she assured, though in truth, she wasn't quite sure who she was trying assure more at the moment.

Outside in the Hall, the three couples wandered away from each other, each seeking some privacy as they wished each other goodnight.

One couple spent the time kissing, holding each other, and the groom teased the bride mercilessly for the revelation that Lord Grantham gave. It was innocent and done in good fun, yet if they knew then what they would discover in less than twenty-four hours, the groom may not have been so light-hearted in his teasing…

For another couple, the bride smiled adoringly at her groom, and he smiled back, her hands coming to rest upon his chest, and remarking with blushing cheeks how quickly his heart was racing, to which he murmured before kissing her that that was only natural, considering she was present. It was a sweet moment, filled with love, yet what the bride didn't realize was that her groom's heart was filled with anxiety, an anxiety that had been creeping for some time, and now with the return of a certain person in his life, it was weighing down upon his mind greater than ever before…

And for the third couple, the groom reached for his bride to whisper goodnight, but saw that she had stiffened and was looking down, as if she couldn't bear to look at him, as if she were…ashamed, or had some sort of tremendous secret to hide. He debated about whether or not to say anything, because he didn't want to have a repeat of what took place in the car journey to Downton, and then decided to reveal his own secret, with hopes that that would put her at ease…however, it only caused her eyes to widen, her frown to deepen, and her voice to coldly reply, "you think _that's_ what this is about?" before releasing his hands and turning on her heel and walking away…

Yes, as all three grooms had quickly come to realize, you had to be _mad_ to take on the Crawley girls.

…But as their future father-in-law promised, they would also quickly realize how very fortunate they were to "suffer" from such madness.

_To be continued..._


	3. Six Months Ago

_Again, thank you so much for the response to this story! I am excited too, about this special wedding day! We have a journey ahead of us, with some bumps here and there, but it will hopefully be a fun ride in the end. NOW, for those of you wondering about how both Sybil and Edith were proposed to...well, just keep reading ;o) FLASH BACK CHAPTER!_

_THANK YOU for following, reading, and reviewing! I love hearing from you, and every review is very, very much appreciated. I hope you enjoy and always keep the STEAMM ships sailing!_

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><p><span><em>Chapter Two<strong><br>**__**"Six Months Ago"**_

Edith sighed as she glanced over at Mary, who was grumbling to herself (or to her mobile) as she, for the third time since they had met at the bridal shop, sent another text to their little sister, demanding to know where she was.

"Honestly," Mary muttered. "She knows what a tight schedule I have—she knows this was the only time when I could get the bridesmaid dresses fitted!"

Edith understood Mary's frustration; she wasn't the only one who had plans for the rest of the day. Still, what point was there in adding fuel to the already raging fire? "Well, maybe her shift ran longer—"

"She didn't have a shift today, which was why _today,_ worked!" Mary snapped, her eyes never leaving the screen in front of her. "And she's not answering my texts, and I've rung her twice—"

"I'm sure she'll be here any minute," Edith mumbled, though this was something she had been saying for the last twenty minutes since Mary began to pace with great agitation. She wasn't sure if she was trying to console her sister, or just "will" Sybil's arrival into existence.

Mary looked up from her mobile and glared back at her. "You sound like a broken record," she muttered.

Edith rolled her eyes. "And _you_ sound like a 'bridezilla'," she retorted.

The sound of someone clearing her throat stopped the argument from escalating, and both Mary and Edith glanced somewhat sheepishly at the third member of their little group.

"We can always start without Lady Sybil," Anna Bates suggested, ever the voice of peace and reason. Anna was going to be Mary's Matron of Honor, which made sense, Edith thought; they were very good friends and had been long before Anna had taken on the job of serving as their grandmother's personal assistant. Besides, this way Mary wouldn't have to "choose" between her sisters, though Edith didn't think it was a contest if she had—she knew, just as sure as Mary knew, that if they both had to pick either each other or Sybil, they would both choose Sybil.

…Though based on how Mary was feeling towards their baby sister now, Sybil would be fortunate to even be invited to the wedding.

Mary glanced at her watch and groaned. "Alright, let's do that," she agreed with Anna, before turning to one of the dressmakers, who had been standing off to the side, waiting patiently. Yet Mary hadn't even opened her mouth to request for the dresses to be brought out, before the door to the shop burst open, and their little sister came rushing in, gasping and looking a little ragged around the edges.

"SYBIL!" they all exclaimed at the same time. She was a sight to see, her hair, which had always been a touch unruly, flying in every direction, her cheeks pink, perspiration across her brow, and her chest panting from running. Yet her eyes were bright and despite the somewhat guilty expression she wore, she was also beaming; glowing, even.

"Sorry!" she apologized, tugging at her scarf. "I know I'm late—"

"BY THIRTY MINUTES!" Mary hissed, giving their sister such a glare, that if looks could kill…

Well, needless to say, Mary was upset.

Sybil did look apologetic; however, she continued beaming. "I know, and I am sorry, Mary, truly—"

Mary raised her hand. "I don't want to hear your excuses, _especially_ if they have anything to do with that boyfriend of yours," she muttered with a roll of her eyes. It wasn't that Mary disliked Tom, but ever since he and Sybil had started dating, Sybil had developed a bad habit of being "unreliable" when it came to punctuality. She had also developed a "bad habit" of not being afraid to sing Tom's praises when it came to his skills in the bedroom.

"Oh Mary, I thought you liked Tom?" Sybil giggled, coming up to her sister and wrapping her arms around the eldest Crawley. Edith couldn't help but watch the display with amusement. If she had made such a gesture after arriving thirty minutes late, Mary would have bitten her head off before she walked through the door.

"You know what I like?" Mary muttered, wriggling herself free from Sybil's embrace. "My little sister BEING ON TIME like she had promised—"

Anna cleared her throat again and Mary sighed before stepping away, lifting a hand to rub her forehead, before turning to the dressmakers and putting on a smile that was clear to anyone with eyes that it was forced, and asked in as polite a tone as possible, if the bridesmaids dresses she had requested could be brought out.

Edith moved over to Sybil and tried to give her a stern look, though in truth it was filled more with curiosity. "Why are you looking like that?" she asked.

Sybil turned and looked at her with confusion. "Like what?"

Edith rolled her eyes. "Like…" she made a gesture with her hand at Sybil's face. "…I mean, the way you're smiling, it's like you can't stop."

At this, Sybil's grin only widened. "Is it a crime to be happy?" she teased with a giggle.

Edith lifted an eyebrow at this. "What are you hiding?" she whispered.

"Hiding?"

"Oh come on, Sybil, you clearly know _something_, the way you—"

"Sybil, you go first," Mary's voice interrupted their whispering. "Take off your coat and let's see how the dress looks on you—oh God, _please_ tell me you brought the shoes I asked you to get?"

Sybil playfully rolled her eyes, but nodded her head in affirmation, lifting a bag that contained the heels Mary desired her bridesmaids to wear. She unbuttoned her coat and slipped it off, and it wasn't missed on Edith how she was grinning rather madly as she pulled her gloves off. Really, what was her sister hiding? Why was she so—?

"OH!"

Both Mary and Edith whipped their heads to Anna who had gasped quite loudly. "What? What is it!?" Mary asked, looking at Anna with some panic, but Anna was grinning rather madly herself, and looking at Sybil with sparkling eyes, a silent question being asked, and Sybil just giggled and nodded her head, before turning to both Mary and Edith and "casually" lifting her left hand to brush a wild curl behind her ear…

The light that was shining overhead caught the sparkle of the diamond.

"OH!" Now it was Mary and Edith's turn to gasp. Sybil laughed and held her hand out for them to see. Mary didn't waste any time, grabbing hold of it. "WHEN?" she demanded, though the harshness and irritation in her voice from earlier was now completely gone.

Sybil laughed even more. "Just now!" she giggled.

_"NOW!?"_ both Edith and Mary echoed, before asking further, "Was _that_ why you were late?"

Sybil couldn't stop grinning and quickly nodded her head to answer the question.

"HOW!?" they both echoed once again, before pulling Sybil over to a nearby sofa, and pulling her down, not letting go of her hands until they heard the story. Anna was grinning and eager to hear more as well, but glanced apologetically at the dressmaker, who looked rather confused at this turn of events.

"Well…" Sybil began, blushing and smiling. "It was a bit of an accident, actually…"

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><p><em>One hour earlier…<em>

"Tom…" she moaned, trying to twist away. "Stop…ooohhhh God, don't stop—NO! No, I can't, I can't!" she wriggled away (just barely) out of his hold, and quickly jumped off the bed, bounding to the other side of the little bedroom, grabbing her knickers and bra on the way. "You're incorrigible," she groaned, especially when she saw the playful pout he had put on as she bent over to pull up her knickers.

"Me!?" he gasped in mock outrage. "If I recall, I had come home with the pure intention of getting a bite before going back to the office, when some posh English minx who also happens to be a gorgeous doctor and who I am very, very lucky to share this flat with, POUNCED on me the second I walked through the door—"

"I did not 'pounce'," Sybil argued, poking her tongue out, before giggling at the growling sound he made. "And even so, are you really going to complain about me wanting to drag you back into our bed and finish what you had started this morning before leaving?"

"Ah, so that's it, is it?" he chuckled, sitting up a little and adjusting the sheets around himself. "You're getting your revenge on me from this morning? Leaving now when I'm all 'hot and bothered'?"

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help laughing at his words. "No, I just have that dress fitting with Mary, Edith, and Anna, and…" she glanced at the clock. "I really need to get going; you know how Mary is about these things."

He sighed and nodded. "Aye, and I know the lectures she's always giving us be they vocal or silent whenever we show up late for something."

"And whose fault is that?" Sybil teased, sliding her bra back on.

"Oh, no doubt about it, yours completely."

"OH!" she reached out and swatted his foot, then leapt back before he could grab her and pull her back into bed. "Cheeky," she muttered, poking her tongue out at him again.

"Takes one to know one, love," he teased, before finally rising himself and grabbing his own underwear from the floor.

Sybil began getting dressed in earnest, slipping on a simple jumper and a pair of jeans, knowing they weren't the sort of clothes one would wear to a posh bridal boutique, but she didn't really see the point in dressing up when she was going to a fitting for whatever bridesmaid gown Mary had chosen. Besides, her sister should be glad she wasn't coming in scrubs.

Sybil reached into the pocket of her jeans and frowned when she found that it was empty. She checked the other pocket and found that it was empty too. "Tom?" she called out (he had gone into the bathroom). "Have you seen my Oyster Card?"

"What?" his voice was muffled from the other side.

"My Oyster Card," Sybil repeated. "I could have sworn I put it in the pocket of my jeans last night…" her voice trailed off as she relayed the events from the previous evening. Tom had joined her, Thomas, and Gwen at _The Golden Unicorn_ when her shift had ended, and they drank and ate and played darts till it was near closing time, and then she and Tom walked (somewhat drunkenly) to the tube station, laughing and kissing along the way…

Had she left the card on the train? She usually kept it in her purse, but she did remember stuffing it inside her pocket last night, and these were the jeans she had worn…

"Just borrow mine, love!" his voice rang out from behind the bathroom door. The office to _The Standard_ was only four streets away (part of the reason this flat so desirable; four streets away from Tom's workplace and just across the street from the tube station that she took to the hospital).

She could hear water running. "Where is it?"

"Check the top drawer on the bureau."

Her eyebrows rose at this. "The sock drawer?" she giggled at this. Why would he keep his Oyster Card in the sock drawer? But she just shrugged her shoulders and went to the drawer he had indicated, opening it to search for what she needed, and frowning at not seeing anything other than rolled-up pairs of socks. "Tom…what are you talking about? It's not in here…" she rummaged a little more, wondering if it had fallen underneath his socks or was somehow in the back of the drawer.

The bathroom door opened then and Tom let out a gasp. "NO! Not that drawer, I meant the bureau in the living room!"

He had dashed across the bedroom to stop her from rummaging further…

But it was too late.

Because in the midst of her search, her hand found something small and square, and just as Tom had reached her side, she had withdrawn the box and without even pausing, had opened it…and was staring down at the ring it held.

Sybil swallowed…and lifted her eyes to her boyfriend. "Tom…?"

Tom groaned and ran his hand over his face and then up into his hair. "This isn't how I thought it would be," he sighed, looking a little sheepish.

Sybil's eyes kept darting back and forth between his face and the ring she held. Her body was trembling and her heart was racing. "And…and how _had_ you thought it would be?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

She felt his hand touch hers, and she looked up at him, her vision slightly blurred with tears, and her heart bursting at the loving smile that had spread across his face. "…Like this," he murmured, bringing her hand to his lips and brushing them across her knuckles…and never letting go as he got down on one knee. "Sybil—"

"YES!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his shoulders and practically tackling him to the floor, her lips instantly fusing with his.

Tom, bless him, tried to speak, but he soon gave up and just wrapped his own arms around her and kissed her back with the same passion she was showing. They stayed like that for a long time, just lying on the floor, kissing and giggling and kissing some more, Tom murmuring loving words to her in Irish, and Sybil telling him over and over, "I love you…yes…a thousand times, yes…"

It may not have been how he had planned, but Sybil was never one that needed grand gestures or great fanfare. Truly, she couldn't imagine a better or more romantic proposal…

* * *

><p>"…So that's it?"<p>

Sybil looked at Edith, blinked for a moment, before bursting out laughing, causing Edith to blush deeply. "I…I didn't mean—"

Sybil waved her arm, gesturing to Edith that it was alright. "Please, you don't need to explain or apologize," she giggled. "But yes…that was 'it', more or less. Tom had been hiding the ring, trying to wait and find the perfect opportunity…but the truth is, that _was_ the perfect opportunity!" Sybil happily sighed as she looked down at the ring that adorned her finger. "For some reason, men seem to think that every woman wants a 'song and dance', when I'll take unplanned, impromptu proposals on the floor of my bedroom any day."

Edith blushed at this, just imagining what happened after the proposal (and having a feeling that Sybil and her now fiancé did a bit more than just hold each other and kiss after the moment had occurred).

Mary, meanwhile, had been quiet during the entire retelling, and it was only when Sybil turned to their eldest sister and ask if she was alright, did she shake her head and come out of whatever stupor she was in. "Yes, sorry, I…" she shook her head again. "Congratulations," she quickly added, smiling at Sybil and reaching across the little space between them to hug her, though it wasn't missed on Edith that Mary's smile seemed somewhat forced.

Sybil smiled and returned the hug, seemingly oblivious to what Edith had observed. "Thank you—I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to steal your thunder today, truly, I just…" she looked down at her finger again and her smile simply became even more radiant than before.

Mary's forced-looking smile immediately softened, and she took Sybil's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. "I understand, darling," Mary murmured, to which Edith could not deny she did feel the tiniest stab of jealousy. Yes, she was the odd one out amongst their little group; Anna married, Mary engaged, and now Sybil. Still, Edith shook her head, telling her brain to stop moping at once. She was in love and with a wonderful man who was nothing but the perfect gentleman; if only every woman were so lucky?

"I'm just surprised, that's all!" Mary explained, stepping away from Sybil and bringing her fingers up to quickly brush at the corners of her eyes. "I mean…it is rather fast—"

"Mary…" Sybil said their sister's name with a little bit of a warning in her tone. Not that that would stop Mary from pressing the issue.

"I'm not saying that as an 'insult', Sybil, but you cannot deny that it _is_ fast; the both of you have only been dating for six months, and just last month did the two of you move in together." Mary looked at Edith then, as if expecting her to back her up and be a "voice of reason" to Sybil, not that that would do much good. Once Sybil set her mind to something, there was no stopping her. Besides, she had been dating Sir Anthony for the same period of time, and if what Sybil felt for Tom was anything remotely close to what she felt for Sir Anthony, then she wouldn't dream of telling their little sister to "ease back".

"I know, I know," Sybil sighed, more as a means to pacify their sister, Edith thought. "Yes, it does seem 'fast', but…" she lifted her eyes and looked directly at the three of them gathered, and Edith couldn't help but feel her heart melt at the loving, happy look that filled Sybil's tear-filled eyes. "…But it also feels so _right_, too. I love him; I _love_ Tom and…I've never been surer of anything!"

Edith glanced at Mary, whose own eyes seemed to have filled with tears then. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something in Mary's gaze; not regret, nothing like that, but…something. But Mary took Sybil's hands in hers, and gave a silent nod, which was enough for the youngest Crawley sister to smile and embrace her eldest, hugging her tight and thanking her for understanding.

"May I see, milady?" Anna asked, having not gotten the chance to look at Sybil's ring properly yet. "Oh, how lovely," Anna happily sighed, looking closely at Sybil's finger.

Sybil smiled proudly. "It was his grandmother's," she explained. "Notice the Celtic knot in the design?"

Mary frowned. "How long has he had this ring?"

Sybil blushed and looked down somewhat bashfully. "Well, remember how I went to Dublin with him at New Year's?"

Mary's eyes widened. "That was three months ago!"

Edith also looked surprised. "Wait…he got the ring then? He's had it all this time…?"

Sybil laughed and nodded her head. "Yes, he um…well, at some point during our holiday, he went to talk to his mother, and had said that…he had never felt like this before with anyone, and…and he couldn't imagine being with anyone else…and so asked his mother if he could have his grandmother's ring…" she bit her lip (as if that would stop her from smiling). "He's kept it hidden in that sock drawer ever since we moved in, just…waiting, like I said, for the 'perfect moment'. He told me he wanted to ask me ages ago, but was afraid that I would be 'frightened off' because that really would be seen as 'too fast', but…I honestly believe I would have said 'yes' then as I did now, because truly…I can't imagine being with anyone else for the rest of my life!"

She was so happy, and her happiness was so infectious that Edith couldn't help tearing up herself. She moved to embrace Sybil herself, and Sybil welcomed the hug, before whispering in Edith's ear, "you're next; just you wait…I've seen the way Sir Anthony looks at you; a proposal isn't far off."

Oh she wanted to believe her, but at the same time, Edith didn't want to "get her hopes up", especially when things were going so well between herself and Sir Anthony. He had already been married before, he may not want to marry again, and Edith had promised herself long ago, she would never push or pressure him to do so. She could be content with the way things remained, truly. She didn't need a diamond on her finger to remind her that he loved her.

The fitting finally got underway after that; Edith did her best to keep her opinions to herself as she was poked and prodded with measuring tape, before putting on Mary's choice for bridesmaids gowns (a deep, crimson red, one of Mary's favorite shades that she always looked dazzling in, but one that did not compliment Edith's coloring, particularly). When the fitting was over, Sybil suggested the four of them going out for a drink, but Mary was already late for an appointment of some kind connected to the foundation, so both she with a fleeting kiss to Sybil and Edith's cheeks, she dashed away with Anna in tow. As for herself, Edith apologized to Sybil; she and Anthony were going up to York for the weekend and she still needed to finish packing. Sybil gave a little giggle, which was followed by a mischievous look, to which Edith quickly told her to stop. Ever since that morning when Sybil had walked in on her and Anthony, her sister liked to tease her that the moment had traumatized the both of them so much, they always had to "runaway" to Yorkshire for their weekend rendezvous. "Have fun!" Sybil giggled, kissing Edith's cheek. "And who knows? Maybe Sir Anthony has something up his sleeve—"

"Enough!" Edith groaned, though she did put a smile for her sister and murmured another "congratulations", before taking a cab back to her place.

Edith had just walked through the door when her mobile began to ring. Knowing the number right away, she answered, "Don't tell me you had to cancel our plans?" She tried to sound like she was joking, but in truth, she couldn't imagine a bigger disappointment right now.

Anthony chuckled. "No, but I am getting out early, and thought, assuming you're finished with the fitting, we could take an earlier train?"

Edith smiled at this and even though he couldn't see her, was eagerly nodding her head. "Yes, please, that sounds wonderful."

Anthony heard the relief in her voice, but he also, no doubt, could hear the stress in it too. "Everything alright, my sweet?"

_My sweet._ That was his little endearment for her, and it always made Edith smile and caused her toes to curl, just slightly. Oh how could she feel despondent when he was so attentive and caring?

"Yes…" she answered, both in answer to him, as well as a reminder to herself that everything truly _was_ alright—better than that, everything was wonderful. "Yes," she repeated, smiling into the phone. "Sybil's engaged."

There was a pause and Anthony finally murmured, "Oh?"

Edith bit her lip. Oh dear, the last thing she wanted was to scare him off or make him feel uncomfortable, as if she were now expecting him to do the same. "Yes, it happened today!" she happily told him, doing her best to sound happy for her sister, without any expectation from her end. "Poor Mary, I think she was a bit overwhelmed by the news; but it is wonderful, and I do like Tom, and all I can hope is that Sybil's taste in gowns is better than Mary's—not that her choices weren't lovely, but she went with crimson red, which is a lovely color, but just washes me out completely," she laughed at her own expense, but felt nervousness rise up in her chest as she realized how…quiet…he was being. "Anthony?"

"Hmm? Oh! Oh, no my sweet, you look lovely in red!" he assured, though it was obvious _he_ was now the one who sounded like he had something else on his mind.

_Bloody fantastic_, Edith irritably thought. In her efforts not to "frighten him", she had done just that. _Just pretend none of this happened_, a voice in her head told her. _Focus on the weekend, like you were going to do_. "I'm so looking forward to the concert tomorrow night!" she told him, holding her mobile between her shoulder and ear as she threw a few extra items into her suitcase. Both she and Anthony were avid fans of the York Symphony, and always made an effort to attend a performance when they had these weekend getaways. "I can't make up my mind if I should take the peach gown, or the green; what do you think?"

There was another pause, and then Anthony mumbled, "Um…whichever you think is best, my sweet—I must go. But I'll see you in an hour, alright? Good; till then, my sweet," and he hung up.

Edith stood there, frozen for a moment as white noise filled her ear. What on earth…? She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself; _everything is fine, we're still on for the weekend, stop fretting and thinking something's wrong—nothing is wrong! You just surprised him, but when you see him, just…assure him how happy you are with how things are…and…and that you're satisfied with that!_

…But was she?

Edith groaned and shook her head, telling herself again that YES, she was happy and satisfied, that she didn't need to follow in the footsteps of her sisters and be engaged or have an elaborate wedding or anything of the sort. She loved Sir Anthony; he made her feel wonderful, and thought her lovely. She had started to fall in love with him the night they had their first date, and that feeling had been growing every week and every month since! She was not going to let her self-doubt and insecurity get the better of her, or ruin this weekend!

Feeling determined, Edith looked at her reflection in the mirror at her dressing table, gave a resolute nod of her head, and closed her suitcase.

She had just brought her bags downstairs, when she heard a knock at her door. Confused, Edith went to open it, and was surprised to see Anthony standing right there. "Oh! I thought you said it would be an hour—?"

"I couldn't wait," he interrupted, moving past her into the house.

Edith felt a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach, like a great weight had been dropped. She swallowed, and tried to put on a smile and not look bothered in the slightest as she shut the door and turned to face him. "Well…" she said, perhaps a bit cheerier than necessary. "I must say, I am eager to get away as well—"

She had come up to him with the intention of wrapping her arms around his shoulders and drawing herself closer, but before she could, he shook his head and stepped away, leaving her standing there rather awkwardly, and a horrible, chilly feeling washing over her. And somewhere in the back of her mind, a warning siren was going off.

She swallowed. "Anthony?" That sinking feeling from earlier felt even heavier. "Is…is everything alright?" He had his back to her…and Edith felt as if the world around her was starting to spin.

He sighed…and then turned to face her at last, and his face looked so…serious, as if he had to deliver some dire news. "I…I'm sorry for doing this to you, my sweet…" he began, his voice soft but painstakingly clear. Edith reached out to grip something, anything; she felt like she was going to be sick.

He looked down. "I…I didn't want it to be like this, but…now after learning this news about your sister—"

"Anthony!" she interrupted, trying her best to not sound hysterical. He lifted his eyes and looked back at her in surprise. "We…we're happy, aren't we?"

His brow furrowed. "Happy?"

"Yes!" she gasped, tears rolling down her cheeks, despite her best efforts. "Yes, we…we're so very happy! Nothing needs to change!"

"But it does," he insisted. "And the truth is, I've been thinking about this for quite some time—"

Thank heaven for the chair which she was standing by, because she sank right down onto it, her legs giving out and a great sob escaping her throat.

Anthony looked alarmed and quickly fell to his knees, grasping the arms of the chair and looking up at her with deep concern. "Edith! My sweet, whatever's the matter?"

"STOP!" she moaned, hating the fact that the tears were flowing quite freely down her face. "Stop…stop saying that, I am _not_ your 'sweet one', or anything like that…and…oh God, this is all my fault!" she covered her face with her hands.

Confusion filled Anthony's eyes. "Your fault? I don't understand—"

"I told you about Sybil! I told you about her and Tom getting engaged, and Mary is engaged to Matthew, and I'm the only one that isn't, and now you think that's all I care about, but it's not! I swear! I love you, I love our life together, and I'm happy, so very, very happy! I don't need to be engaged, let alone married, to know that sort of happiness—"

"Edith…" he interrupted, one of his hands rising to touch her cheek. Lord, what a sight she was. She wanted to turn away, but couldn't, not when he was looking at her so intensely. "Do you really mean that?"

She sniffled and nodded her head. "Yes," she answered. It wasn't a complete lie; of course she loved the idea of being married to him, of having a wedding and sharing his name. But this was the 21st century, not Edwardian England; there were thousands, if not millions of couples who lived happily together, _unmarried_. And that was all that mattered, what she and Anthony created, together.

The corners of his mouth lifted, though his smile looked sad. "But my sweet, _I_ don't know if that's enough…"

Her heart shattered and she opened her mouth to say something, though she wasn't sure what (perhaps echo another sob), but all manner of speech and sound died in her throat…as he reached into his coat pocket…and pulled out a black satin box.

"Lady Edith Crawley…" he began, his own voice becoming quite emotional. "You truly mean the world to me…you have given me back my life…" he took a deep breath and opened the box and Edith gasped and her hands flew to her mouth to cover it as she looked upon the beautiful diamond ring that lay within. "…Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Her answer was a kiss that stole his breath, her arms flying around his neck and pulling him towards her as she kissed him madly, deeply, her tears mingling with his own, and somewhere in the midst of those kisses, she nodded her head and managed to say, "yes!"

Their plans to get away to York for the weekend were canceled. There seemed to be little point, after failing to emerge from the house and missing two trains. Edith honestly didn't know how Sybil had managed to tear herself away from Tom after he had proposed, though she could completely understand now why her sister had been late…and Mary as well, all those months ago.

Yes, Edith Crawley had to admit, just like her two sisters, she rather loved being an engaged woman.

* * *

><p>"Did you know he was planning this?" Mary demanded, sitting up and folding her arms across her chest as she looked at Matthew. Ever since Tom started dating Sybil, it didn't take long before he and Matthew became good friends. Matthew had even been contemplating about asking Tom to serve as his best man at the wedding, since he had sort of lost contact with his friends from Manchester.<p>

Matthew sighed and sat up; he had been trying to coax her into relaxing after a long day, even going so far as to put on her guilty pleasure, _"The Great British Bakeoff",_ but Mary couldn't sit still. She was feeling the urge to pace, much like she had done at the bridal boutique.

"I thought you liked Tom?" Matthew asked. "I mean, I know he does like to get a rise out of you—"

"Understatement of the century," Mary muttered.

"—But I do remember you saying that you thought he was 'perfect for Sybil', and he certainly has your father's approval, which let's not forget, is a difficult thing to achieve, especially for someone who writes for an anti-Tory newspaper—"

"Oh this isn't about Tom, or whether or not I think he's 'good enough' for Sybil…but…" her voice trailed off.

Matthew arched an eyebrow. "…But?"

Mary sighed. "They've known each other for less than a year, Matthew! They've dated for…has it even been six months? They only just moved in together—"

"So if I understand you," he calmly interrupted. "What bothers you is that you feel this is…too soon?"

"Well isn't it?"

Matthew shrugged, which didn't help relieve Mary's apprehensive feelings. "Oh I see," she muttered, rising from the couch and pacing at last. "I suppose this makes me the 'mad one'."

"I didn't say that," Matthew groaned. "Mary…not every couple is the same! Some just…know! They do what feels right to them. And that sometimes works, and sadly, that sometimes doesn't."

Mary bit the inside of her cheek as she folded her arms across her body. "You mean like us?"

Matthew frowned. "What? No, not at all like us," he rose from the couch and moved across the room to her side, but she turned away before he could reach her. Matthew sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Mary…"

"We dated for two years, Matthew; we didn't even _live together_ during that period!"

"That doesn't mean our relationship was less than—"

"Then we broke up and were apart for five years, only to finally come back together after all that time—"

"Yes! Exactly! Mary…" he reached her and this time she didn't pull away, but she didn't look at him as she felt his hands cup her face. "Mary…" he repeated, his fingers gentle on her cheeks, softly caressing the skin, making it impossible not to acknowledge him. She looked up then, baring to him all the emotions that were coursing through her, showing him the vulnerability she so rarely let others see in her. "Mary," he murmured her name for a third time. "I love you…we love each other…we're engaged, and we're getting married in a few months! It took us seven years to get here, but we made it! That's all that matters. And we're stronger people too, because of the struggles we've endured."

She knew he was right, and God, she loved him for it. But at the same time, she couldn't help but feel disappointed in herself. Everything just seemed to come so easy for her sisters when it came to love and relationships; she had seen the way they were with their respective partners, and envied them that "blissful ignorance" to which she had been shaken from, when she and Matthew had been apart. Not that she ever wanted them to experience that sort of heartbreak.

"…Besides," Matthew's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she saw a lopsided grin on his face. "Who says we didn't just know that early in our relationship?"

Mary lifted an eyebrow at this. "I don't remember you coming to me with a ring six months into our relationship."

Matthew chuckled and shook his head. "No, I didn't, that's true, but…that doesn't mean I didn't want to," he confessed.

"Oh stop, you're just saying that—"

"I'm not," he insisted, his arms locking around her. "I swear it, I…I have never loved another the way I love you. And…I know, deep in my heart, I will never be happy with anyone else, as long as you walk the earth."

She gazed back at him and smiled, feeling likewise. "I think I recall you saying something similar to me on the night we had that infamous date."

"Ah, you mean the night I finally proposed?" he chuckled, pulling her closer. "Well, it bears repeating."

She smiled, and wove her arms around his shoulders, feeling at last, a sense of peace that day. She tilted her chin up and their lips were just about to meet in a sweet kiss when her mobile started buzzing on the coffee table.

Mary turned her head, and Matthew took the opportunity to nuzzle her neck and ear, but suddenly his lips were met with air when Mary wriggled free from his arms and grabbed the mobile, her eyes wide and her mouth falling open in shock.

"I don't believe it…"

Matthew frowned and tried not to show his annoyance at being interrupted by whoever had texted her. "What?"

Mary turned to him…and then lifted the mobile to his eyes so he could see the screen, and specifically, so he could see the image of Edith's left hand, now donning a large, beautifully sparkling diamond.

_"BOTH_ of my sisters got engaged on the _SAME_ DAY!"

* * *

><p>Sybil and Edith's "blissful" weekend as newly engaged women was interrupted on Sunday by the arrival of their mother, who had taken the earliest possible train she could get, and had demanded that all three of her daughters join her for brunch at Crawley House. The three sisters did as she commanded, a sense of foreboding falling over each of them as they entered the house and were seized by their mother, hugging Edith and Sybil especially hard, before turning to Mary and embracing her, and then looking into the eyes of each of them and sighing, "all three of my babies…getting married!"<p>

Edith blushed and Sybil giggled, while glancing at Mary who put on a smile. "Well…not just yet, Mama," Sybil was the first to speak. She took Mary's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Mary's wedding first, and…well, then Edith and I will discuss who will go next—"

"Oh, you and Tom were engaged first, you should go," Edith insisted.

"But you're older—I don't mean that badly!" Sybil was quick to defend. "I just mean that it does make some sense, Mary marries first, then you, then me."

"Yes, but…I honestly don't know how long this is going to take to plan; and Anthony's schedule is a very busy one—"

"Take all the time that you need, I…" Sybil glanced nervously at their mother. "I honestly don't know what we'll do, I mean…his family will want to be a part of it, but Tom and I are very 'simple' in our tastes, and really, something small—"

"I have the perfect solution!"

All three Crawley sisters turned to their mother, who was grinning quite madly at them.

Mary arched her eyebrows. "Mama?"

Cora Crawley continued to grin as she took Mary's hand in her left, and Edith's hand in her right, Sybil standing between her sisters, who just seemed to automatically take both their hands, as if they were going to start spinning around in a circle.

"…Why not have all of your weddings up at Downton?"

Sybil and Edith blinked, as did Mary. However, it was their mother's next sentence that truly had them stunned speechless.

"And have them all…_TOGETHER!"_

* * *

><p><em>Oh Cora... ;oP<em>


End file.
